Cindy winced as Lindsay’s voice carried through the nearly empty bullpen. She would have preferred it to be completely empty, but arrestees can’t be choosers.
“I can expla-,” she started.
“It’s all just a big misunderstanding.”
“There’s not a whole hell of a lot to misunderstand about that outfit, Cindy. Mostly because there’s not a whole hell of a lot of outfit to begin with.”
Cindy squirmed as Lindsay’s gaze traveled up her body, moving from her silver stilettos and black fishnet stockings up to the white snakeskin pleather miniskirt and black corset.
She wondered, as exposed as she already felt, how it was possible for Lindsay’s glance to make her feel completely naked.
She nervously pulled at the hem of her skirt in a vain attempt to cover more skin, ending up accidentally exposing an inch or two of midriff, and a quick glint of silver, in the process.
Lindsay raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, looking through the holding cell bars expectantly.
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